


The Good Helper

by firemaiden04



Series: You Can't Resist the Pull [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Dirty Talk, Dry Humping, Eventual Trespasser spoilers, F/M, Fade Sex, Fade foreplay, Fantasizing, Fluff and Smut, Foot Massage, Helpful Cole (Dragon Age), Light BDSM, Massage, NSFW, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Porn With Plot, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smut, Solas is a glutton for punishment, Solavellan, The Fade, This didn't originally have a plot but now it does, Vaginal Fingering, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-05-04 20:55:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5348240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firemaiden04/pseuds/firemaiden04
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While sharing a tent with Lia Lavellan one night, Cole is privy to an erotic dream she has about Solas.  He is delighted to have finally found a way to ease some of her pain, but while trying to unite the two would-be lovers, his tactics aren't exactly above-board.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is NOT my first erotic fanfiction, not by a long shot, but it's my first one on this website. I may post some of my other ones on here, but I may not. I am honestly not usually good at punctual, regular updates, but I've already got a serious amount of this series planned out in my mind, and since I've basically been living and breathing Dragon Age: Inquisition for the past couple of weeks, I imagine I'll be updating pretty frequently. Forgive me for lapses, though; I'm a manager in grocery retail and the holidays are the busiest we get all year, so my work schedule will likely be pretty erratic. All feedback, reviews, and comments are appreciated!

It all began with a dream.

It was their second night camping on the Storm Coast, attending to a task the Iron Bull needed assistance with.  Lia, the Lady Inquisitor, had travelled with Bull, Dorian, and Cole, leaving the rest of their companions comfortably ensconced at Skyhold.  The rain hadn’t let up since the day they’d arrived, and with only two tents in the small camp, they’d doubled up on the sleeping arrangements. 

Lia liked Cole, and didn’t mind his dreamy observations or musings on the people they came into contact with.  And he wasn’t exactly the type to try to cop a feel in the middle of the night, so she didn’t mind sharing the tent with him in the slightest.

On this night, the rain was pouring down onto the tents, surrounding them with the nonstop pattering on the tent walls.  She didn’t mind it; in fact, she found it mildly soothing.  Rain seemed to help her sleep better.  She also couldn’t hear much of what was going on outside of their tent, namely whatever shenanigans Bull and Dorian may or may not be engaged in. 

She had gone to sleep nearly as soon as they’d retired to the tents for the night.  Cole, though sometimes prone to unexpected exclamations about what he perceived in the guards in the camp, had remained silent when they’d lied down, allowing Lia to quickly drift into the Fade.  She didn’t always dream so vividly, but tonight was to be a very major exception.

They were back in Haven, just like the last time.  They walked along through the village, heading towards the Chantry.  He was so handsome, and she was overwhelmed with how much she wanted him.  _Needed_ him. 

He turned towards her and cupped her face in his hands.  His eyes darted back and forth between her eyes and her lips, and when she parted her lips, he shook his head slightly, then closed his eyes and groaned as he pulled her towards him.

The kiss wasn’t gentle.  Not in the least.  And then, somehow, they had gone from standing outside in Haven to inside her room in Skyhold.  He had her underneath him, and she writhed up against him, instantly filled with such desire, and already so close to orgasm.  She needed him inside her, and then suddenly he was, and she cried out and her cries mingled with his.  He held her hands over her head and whispered things into her ear that she couldn’t absorb, so heady was her desire.  She was so close—so close—she just needed—

And the tendrils of the Fade snapped, and she was back in her tent on the Storm Coast, a cry on her lips.  She was on her stomach on her bedroll, and the orgasm had already slipped away.  Another cry escaped her lips, but it wasn’t one of desire.  Tears pooled in her eyes as the ache of the dream washed over her. 

“You have such a _need_ in you for him,” came a voice.

Startled, she rolled over to face Cole, who was propped on his side on the bedroll next to hers.  He was gazing at her with wonder and pity. 

She quickly dashed the tears away with her hand.  “Listen, Cole, I—“

“I can _help_ you,” he said joyously.  “Just like the others.  I’ve wondered how I could help you for so long, and now I know!  I can help you with him!  With Solas!”

Lia closed her eyes.  “Cole, I don’t think this is something you can fix,” she said tiredly.  “Solas is the last person you’d be able to influence, and I wouldn’t want you to anyways.”

Cole cocked his head to the side thoughtfully.  “Maybe.  But I can help you, right now, with that.  With your dream.”          

Lia raised her eyebrows.  “Um.  I don’t—I don’t think that’s really…”

“Let me help,” he cajoled, and then his voice went soft and dreamy, and his figure seemed to waver in front of Lia’s eyes.  And then he was gone, and she didn’t remember that he had been there at all.   She was just lying alone in her tent, having just wakened from a dream about Solas, where she had very nearly had an orgasm.

Cole absorbed her desire and let it unfurl in his mind.  What she wanted from Solas— _needed_ from Solas.  What she needed, right now, to feel better.  He’d been aware of the dream, and although she couldn’t remember what Solas had been whispering in her ear as he’d fucked slowly inside of her, Cole had heard every word.  Sex wasn’t something he understood, exactly, as an act in and of itself; he just knew what he’d gathered from the people he walked amongst, and he knew that lots of people liked lots of different things.  It didn’t occur to him that sex was something very, very private that people didn’t want broadcast to the world; it also didn’t occur to him to find certain fetishes weird or inappropriate, as long as they all involved consent.  In fact, he could usually sense the motivations and explanations behind desires that were slightly unusual, and was therefore more understanding of certain needs than most.  This need that Lia had was not so unusual, and knowing the Inquisitor as well as he did, he could easily picture what she needed, and why—probably better than she could.

“He is so strong for you,” he began softly, and let her desire wash over him so he could know what she needed to follow.  “You are strong, too, but he can take the burden from you for a short time.  On your own, you don’t have to be in charge.  You don’t have to lead.  He can lead you.  He can tell you what you need.  He can take care of you.”

He closed his eyes as the words formed in his mind.  “He tells you, now.  You are in your bed.  No one nearby.  Sun shining outside.  He is on top of you.  You are unclothed.  He is not.  Your hands, gripped by his, above your head.  He knows what you need.  He will give it to you, slowly.  It will be so good.”  Impassively, he watched as Lia, lulled by his voice, dreamily slid her hand down under the blanket.

Lia drifted into semi-unconsciousness.  She was on her bed, in Skyhold.  Naked.  Solas was on top of her, fully clothed.  His hands pinned hers above her head.  He nuzzled her neck and she shivered.  He smiled and sat up to look down at her.

“Do you want me?” he asked softly. 

She nodded frantically. 

“What do you say?” he queried, raising an eyebrow.

“ _Please_ ,” she gasped.

He smiled.  “Good girl.  My beautiful girl.  I’ll give you what you need.”  He bent his head and nibbled lightly on her jawline, and she shuddered beneath him.  He licked and kissed and nibbled his way down the side of her neck to right where it met her shoulder, and she groaned.  He smiled against her flesh before moving his lips over her heart, and he held them there, absorbing her heartbeat.  She closed her eyes as he left one hand pinning hers above her head, and slowly stroked the other one down the inside of her arm, down her side, to rest lightly against her waist.  Then he slowly moved his mouth down to lightly lick one nipple, already pebbled hard from anticipation.  She bit her lip and trembled.

“No, do not bite back your pleasure, ma vhenan,” he chided, watching her.  “Your pleasure is mine.  I wish to hear it.”  He licked her nipple again, and she moaned, writhing against his grip.  He smiled faintly as he continued to tease her, licking time and again until she was shaking and crying out, and then moving to give his attentions to her other nipple. 

When she felt she couldn’t take another second of his torture, she choked out, “Creators, Solas, please!”

He glanced up at her, face flushed and eyes hot.  “You believe you have had enough?  That is not your decision to make.  _I_ decide when you are finished.”  And he bent his head back down and continued.

Lia gasped for breath as his slow ministrations continued.  For every delicate lick, she felt a stab of heat in her core, and everything felt almost unbearably sensitive. 

Finally, he scraped his teeth across her nipple, and she wailed at the excruciating sensation, both pain and pleasure, and arched against him, or away from him—she wasn’t sure which—and Solas sat up and smiled down at her. 

“Such sweet torture, is it not?  You took it well.  Do you want me to relieve that ache inside you?”

Lia nodded, then gasped as he reached out and gripped her chin firmly.  “When I ask you a question, you will speak your response, not nod at me.  _Do you understand?_ ”

Lia swallowed, then spoke.  “Yes.”

“ _Do you want me to relieve that ache inside you?”_

“Yes!” she gasped, and he released her chin and bent down to nuzzle her neck. 

“Beg me,” he rasped against her ear.  “Beg me for it, ma’haurasha.”

“Creators, Solas, please!  Sathan, vera em su tarasyl!”

“I will,” he vowed, and finally released her hands from above her head.  “Leave them there,” he warned, and moved down her body, kissing beneath her breasts, licking inside her navel until she squirmed, and then moving to spread her thighs open.  Lia tensed, knowing what he intended, but nervous to allow him to do so—she’d only had one person do that before, and it hadn’t been very enjoyable, and he’d complained about her “lack of responsiveness”.  She had never been comfortable letting someone do that since, and no one had really pushed the subject, either.

Solas noticed her trepidation and looked up at her with gentle eyes.  “Ha’mi’in, ma’haurasha, lasa em tua rosas’da’din _._ ”  And when she relaxed, he pushed her thighs apart, lowered his head, and smiled.  “You are so hot, so wet for me already, ma’haurasha.  I will make you flood all over my tongue.”  Slowly, lightly, he licked her, up her slit, ending with a sharp little flick at her clitoris. 

Lia choked out her pleasure as he did it again, and he raised his head, eyes heavy-lidded, to say, “Mar rodhe ir’on _,”_ and then went back to his task, slowly sliding a finger inside of her to feel her clench around him.    

She mewled and writhed as he attended to her.  He was moaning against her as he devoured her wetness, curling his finger inside her to press against her _just there_ , and then adding a second finger, and the heat inside her was building up and up to an unbearable pitch. 

She started to swell around his fingers, and he pulled his mouth away just long enough to say, “Not yet, ma’haurasha, not yet.  Not until I say.”

She sobbed as she tried to keep the precipice at bay, shaking with the strain, face flushed, a sheen of sweat coating her entire body.  Her vision began to waver, lights bursting at the edges.  She couldn’t hold it back anymore—she _couldn’t_...

“Ask me,” he rasped against her, and the words poured forth from her.    

“Please, Solas, _please_ , I want to come, please, can I come?”

“Yes, ma’haurasha, come for me.  Gush all over my tongue.  Let me devour your slick.  Come, now, for me.”

Lia took a deep breath, and then it was upon her.  She arched against Solas…

And arched against her hand, crying out in her tent, riding the wave as it enveloped her, chanting Solas’ name like a litany.  Cole watched her delightedly, rather proud at how well he had built the fantasy for her.  When the wave of her orgasm washed over him, though, he was extremely taken aback.  He had never been so physically near someone having an orgasm before.  He was amazed at the swell and burst of it, at the consuming sensation, and he shuddered a bit before the wave subsided.  He was a little awed, and suddenly felt like he understood quite a bit more of human sexuality.

He sent fatigue towards Lia, and she rolled over, hips still pulsing a bit against her hand at the aftershocks, and she started nodding off immediately.  Right before she did, though, he absorbed a hint of something that made him frown.  While the physical ache had been immediately relieved by her orgasm, there was still that _need_ in her for Solas, and her last thoughts before submitting to the Fade had been sad.  His frown deepened, and he lay back and looked up at the roof of the tent.  Something had to be done.  He was determined to relieve this pain for the Inquisitor, and if the task was going to be more complicated than he’d originally anticipated, so be it. 

He would have to go to Solas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ma vhenan- my heart  
> ma'haurasha- My honey. A very sexual endearment that essentially means “You make me wet,” or “You make me hard.” Fyi: Haurasha (honey) is slang for precum, and the wetness of the vagina.  
> Sathan, vera em su tarasyl- please, take me to the sky  
> Ha’mi’in, lasa em tua rosas’da’din- relax, let me make you come  
> Mar rodhe ir’on- You taste delicious
> 
> All Hail FenxShiral for her astounding work on the Elvhen language!


	2. Chapter 2

It was a beautiful, sunny day in Skyhold, and even the breeze was warm as it blew gently about Cole and Solas as they strolled together through the grounds.  The Inquisitor’s party had returned late the night before, and Lia was ensconced in the War Room with her advisors.  It was a perfect opportunity for Cole to begin the next step of his plan.

He and Solas frequently spent time together walking about Skyhold.  Solas understood Cole— _really_ understood him, more than anyone else Cole knew.  His musings and ponderings were not dismissed or ignored by Solas; indeed, Solas was often able to introduce new ideas and point out subtleties that Cole had often overlooked.  He also often had a very unusual perspective and was able to help Cole navigate through the often murky universe of human emotions.  Cole very much enjoyed these walks.  Today, they had walked about halfway around Skyhold when Cole decided the time was right to broach the topic.

“It must be wonderful,” he said dreamily, “to be so needed.  So desired.”

Solas glanced at him, brow furrowed, as they continued to walk slowly along.  “To what are you referring?” he asked.

“She aches for you.  Touches herself to ease the ache, but it does not help.”

Solas stopped still as though turned to stone.  His mouth opened, but for a moment he seemed unable to speak.  Then he choked out, “Are you—you mean Lia?”

Cole tilted his head forward and smiled behind the brim of his hat.  It was working!  So easy!  “She dreamed of you, and it made her so hot.  She needed you, but you were not there.”

Solas turned swiftly towards Cole and gasped out, “And you _were_?  What does that mean?”  Then his eyes narrowed.  “What did you do?”

Cole looked up at the sky.  “I helped,” he said simply.  He could feel so many things pouring off Solas.  Anger, guilt, and a massive amount of lust that Solas was trying desperately to suppress. 

Solas shook his head slowly, as though unable to absorb the information Cole had given him.  “I don’t…are you telling me she dreamed of the two of us…being intimate…and she woke up from it and you…what…talked her through it?  While she _touched herself?_ ”

Cole smiled to himself.  The anger Solas was feeling was good.  It meant he cared.  “I helped,” he said again.

Solas was nearly speechless.  He breathed deeply, attempting to gather his thoughts and make sense of the bombshell Cole had just rather mercilessly dropped on him.  “Cole,” he began, then paused to clearly think of what he needed to say.  “Do you understand sex?”

“Lust.  Desire.  They come together.  Sometimes it is beautiful.  Sometimes it is not.  Some people use it to get ahead.  Sometimes there is a child.  Some people do not enjoy it much.  Some people need it all the time.  People think about it.  A lot.”

Solas sighed.  “Yes, that can all be true.  But, Cole, do you understand it is supposed to be _private_?”

Cole tilted his head.  “Yes, I think so.  They usually do it inside, when no one is around.  Not out in the square, in front of people.”

“Yes, but when people think about it, they don’t want their thoughts to be intruded on.”  He sighed.  “I understand you were trying to help.  But…fenedhis…did you really talk her through masturbating?”  Another thought occurred to him, and he hurriedly added, “does she _know_ you did this?”

Cole looked at Solas.  “She knows she did.  She does not remember my presence.”

Solas groaned and closed his eyes.  He rubbed his face with both hands and sat heavily down on a bench, and Cole peered down at him, gauging his response and deciding what to say next.  It occurred to him that maybe knowing the details of what Lia wanted from him would make it all easier, so he continued.  “She carries such a burden.  So many look to her for guidance.  More responsibility than anyone should have.  She wants to be free of it.  She wants to submit to you, and that will give her freedom.” Solas dropped his hands from his face and stared at Cole.  Eagerly, Cole went on: “she wants you to be in charge.  Tell her what she needs.  Take care of her.  Make her ask for—“

Solas held up his hand and shook his head, eyes wide.  “Cole.  No.”

Cole decided to hurry up and take his opportunity.  He began to waver in front of Solas, and his voice became dreamy.  “She wants you to—“

“No, no, Cole.  Cole, NO!” Solas leapt up from the bench and backed away, hands out.  “None of that!  Stay out!  Fenedhis, you’re not planting those thoughts in my head.  It’s the last thing I need.”

Cole shook his head, frustrated.  “But…she _aches_ , Solas,” he said plaintively.  “I need to help her.  You would make her happy.  Give her what she needs.  I want to help.”

“I know you want to help, Cole,” Solas said.  “But not with this.  Leave it alone.”  He turned and began walking towards the steps to the Great Hall.  “Don’t follow me,” he said over his shoulder.  Cole stood and watched him go.

Solas made his way into his chambers, closed the door, and slumped against his wall.  He felt powerless, as well as eaten alive with lust.  Despite his quick defense, some of Cole’s pictures had made it into his head.  He groaned at the remembrance.  _She wants to submit to you.  Tell her what she needs.  Make her ask for…_ what?  He could imagine what she would ask for.  _Beg me_.  He shook his head, but the thoughts only grew in his mind.  Helpless against the lust that overwhelmed him, he reached down and undid his breeches.  His cock had been painfully erect since before he’d even left Cole.  He took it now in his hand, and hissed through his teeth as he began to stroke himself, letting his head fall back against the wall as the pictures flowed through him.

Lia, pinned against the wall, not allowed to move, as his hand dipped into her smalls and teased her, fingers plunging inside of her, feeling her shake, hearing her moan, whispering things into her ear as he made her come all over his hand, over and over…

Lia, on her back, him fucking deep inside of her, her legs over his shoulders, stroking her clit, hearing her scream for him, begging him to let her come…would he allow it?  Or would he torture her with his denial, and keep her on edge as long as he wished?

Lia, on top of him, riding him slowly, eyes squeezed shut, his hand around her throat, releasing just as she crested, hearing her wail through her orgasm, feeling her swell and then clench around him, pulling him along with her…

He groaned as he felt himself nearing release.  He increased the speed as he brought his hand over his shaft, twisting his hand just a bit on each stroke. 

Lia, bent over her balcony rail, not allowed to make a single sound as he slowly ground into her from behind.  All of Skyhold below them, no one knowing what they were doing…her coming silently, shivering around him…

Lia, sprawled open-legged on her throne, while he ate out her sweet cunt until she was crying out, screaming out his name.  “Solas, please, I’m so close!  Please!  Fen’harel!  Fen’harel, I’m coming!”

With a muffled shout, Solas came, spurting all over his hand and onto the floor of his room.  He groaned heavily at the intensity of his climax, prolonged by the images still in his head.  Shuddering, he leaned back against the wall and swallowed heavily.  This was not good.  This would _not_ turn out well.  It couldn’t happen.  It mustn’t.  No matter how tempting…

Out in the courtyard, Cole smiled.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm still thinking up the next installment, but hopefully I'll get to working on it after I get out of my opening shift at work tomorrow.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas manages to avoid running into Lia around Skyhold, but when he encounters her in the Fade, he just can't help himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the delayed post, guys! I know there's nothing I hate more than really loving a fanfiction but having to wait forever for new chapters, and I don't want to do that to anyone else. This week was just crazy for me, with my work schedule, and then my birthday on Friday (and recovering from my birthday all day today). But I already have the next chapter pretty well planned out, so hopefully I'll have it up within a few days. As always, kudos and comments are appreciated!
> 
> The beginning of this chapter involves a rather nasty dream. For anyone who has ever had the kind of emotionally wrenching dream that leaves you waking up literally sobbing, this may be a trigger for you.

After his conversation with Cole, Solas was especially wary of any chance encounters with Lia.  He made a concerted effort to be aware of where she was at any given moment, just so that he wouldn’t be caught off guard by a chance encounter and be unable to muster his words and thoughts appropriately.  When she had finally withdrawn from the War Room, he had seen her from where he was walking aimlessly about the grounds; she was standing at the top of the stairs just outside the entrance to the main hall, sunlight reflecting off her golden hair, rubbing her face exhaustedly with two hands, then finally standing up straight and surveying the yard.  Solas quickly ducked behind a tree and immediately felt like a complete fool.  Still, he waited for her to descend from the stairs and watched her walk into the tavern before he felt completely relaxed. 

Then, suddenly, with a jolt, he remembered that Cole preferred to sit on the third floor of the tavern, observing all the people interact.  Without a second thought, Solas dashed into the tavern, stopping abruptly when he saw Lia sitting with her back to him at a table with the Iron Bull.  He felt like a fool for the second time in as many minutes, even more so when he saw several people give him curious looks; he rarely ever ventured into the tavern.  Groaning to himself, he turned right back around and left, striding through the grounds until he ended up at a vacant bench in the courtyard.  He sat down heavily and buried his face in his hands.  What was _wrong_ with him?  He was acting like an absolute child—worse, like some naïve Dalish youth who had no idea how to talk to the opposite sex and blushed to the tips of his ears whenever he spoke to a Dalish maiden he fancied.  He shook his head angrily, sat back, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.  This had to stop.

He analyzed the situation.  Whatever Cole had done, Lia was not aware of his involvement.  Cole would not make her aware of it.  Which meant Cole would not tell her that he had spoken to Solas concerning everything.  Which therefore meant that any awkwardness from an encounter with Solas would not be due to her knowledge that Solas was aware of anything—it would either be from her personal embarrassment about masturbating to the dream, or _his_ personal embarrassment about masturbating to the thought of _her_ masturbating about the dream.  Solas groaned again.

 _No_.  That was enough.  Solas shook his head again.  No more.  He stood up, shrugged his shoulders, and ventured inside to go to the library and bury himself in old tomes until he was unaware of anything in the waking world. 

 

This plan worked exceedingly well.  He lost track of time, and when he finally left his desk, it was to find a dark, quiet Skyhold.  It was after midnight and there were few signs of life.  He stretched and decided it was time for him to retire as well.

When he was finally stretched out on his small bed, he closed his eyes and effortlessly slid into sleep and entered the Fade.  He roamed happily, flitting from one place to another, visiting old haunts, discovering new delights.  But his subconscious betrayed him, and before he knew it, he was standing in shadows in his study, and the two people standing at his desk were himself—though not himself—and Lia Lavellan.

 _I should leave_ , he thought, but before he acted on it he became aware that the scene he had discovered was not a sexual one, or even a happy one.  Lia was noticeably upset, and Fade-Solas was acting very unusually.  He was walking around purposefully, putting random brushes or books into a large knapsack he carried.  Lia clutched onto the edge of the desk and asked tearfully, “But _why_?”

Fade-Solas shrugged and continued his random packing.  “I do not wish your company any longer,” he said dismissively.

Lia was crying.  The tears poured seamlessly down her cheeks.  “Please!  _Please!_ Don’t go!  Don’t leave!”

Fade-Solas laughed scornfully.  “You think I would stay for _you_?  You are foolish.  There is nothing to keep me here any longer, least of all you.”

Lia let out a sob and fell to her knees.  “No, no, _please,_ no!  How could you?  _Don’t leave me!_ ” 

Fade-Solas looked down at her scornfully.  “You disgust me,” he said viciously.  “You have nothing to tempt me with.  I would never care for someone like you.” 

She wailed and buried her face in her hands.

Fade-Solas laughed at her and picked up his knapsack.  “I am done with this place, and with you,” he jeered.  And he turned without another word and left the room.

Lia screamed, open-mouthed sobs wracking her petite body.  She rocked back and forth, keening her grief.

Solas could have left.  As wrenching as it would have been, he should never have interfered.  But this did not occur to him in the moment.

He rushed to where she sat on the floor, lost in agony, and he knelt down and gathered her into his arms.

“Shhhh, da’len, I am here,” he crooned, pulling her face to his chest.  “I am here.  I have not left you.”

She wept into his chest, and Solas felt like his heart was being ripped out of him as he witnessed firsthand her overwhelming grief.  He couldn’t stand seeing her like this, and he _needed_ to help her.  He placed a hand gently on the back of her head, his other hand stroking her back, and murmured, “I would never leave you, ma vhenan.  Do not cry.  I am right here.”

“You will leave me,” she gasped tearfully.

He pulled her head back and tilted her face up to his with both hands.  “No, da’len,” he consoled her, thumbs wiping away the dampness on her cheeks.  “I will not leave you.  Not for anything.  Please, do not cry.  It was all just a bad dream.”

The watery look on her face as she gazed up at him only served to crack his heart further.  He could not stand it.  He absolutely could not stand it.

He leaned down and kissed her gently.  So gently.  Just a press of his lips against hers, his hands still cradling her face, thumbs still stroking her cheeks.  And for a long moment, this was enough.  Her tears had stopped flowing, soothed by his reassurances.  But when he finally, eventually pulled back from the simple kiss, her eyes drifted open, and the look in them, and the way her lips parted, and the little moan that escaped her, was all too much in the already emotionally fraught moment.  And, even though he shouldn’t, he kissed her again.  And again.  And when her lips parted beneath his, he deepened his kiss, and she seemed to melt into him.  She was so soft against him, so achingly sweet.  He lightly stroked inside of her mouth with his tongue, and the strangled moan she gave sent heat coursing through his veins.  He pulled back briefly, and gazed down at her face, cupped in his hands.  “Ah, ma’lath, ma’sa’lath, you do not know what you do to me.”  He kissed her again, and again, and groaned.  “My beautiful fenorain.”

She reached up to his face with two shaky hands and laid her cool palms against his cheeks.  She held them there, and as they trembled against his face, she searched his eyes with hers.  Her lips parted, and he couldn’t help but lean in to kiss her again.  She made a strangled sound against his mouth and pulled away long enough to whimper, “Please!”

“Please, what, ma vhenan?” he questioned, and swiftly stole another kiss before she answered.  “What do you desire from me?”

“I desire _you_ ,” she answered simply.

Solas closed his eyes at the swell inside of him, the rise of the wolf, demanding that he _take her, take her now, make her scream, make her come again and again, come inside of her, fill her up until she_ —no.  He shook his head against the urge.  But then, unbidden, he remembered Cole’s words to him.  _Tell her what she needs.  Take care of her._

_Beg me._

Solas felt his control fracture.  Without a second conscious thought, he had lifted her off his lap and laid her on her back on the floor, crawling over her and taking both her hands in his.  He threaded his fingers through hers and raised their hands to right above her head.  “Ah, da’len, I know what you need.  Juveran na su tarasyl.”  He bent his head and kissed her again, opening her mouth with his, delving deep with his tongue, sinking into her until she was moaning and writhing beneath him.

“Spread your legs, vhenan,” he murmured against her mouth, and when she had, he settled between her thighs, his hardness nestled against her molten heat.  She made a choked sound and raised her hips up to rub against him, and Solas gritted his teeth against the gut-wrenching need to rip her leggings off and bury himself in her hot cunt until she screamed.  Instead, he moved his mouth to her ear and rasped to her, “Leave your hands where they are, or I will stop.”  He released her hands, and she dutifully kept them positioned right above her head.  He moved his hands down to her hips, then around to cup her ass, lifting her up higher and harder against him as he began to grind his hardness into her.

“I want to make you come, Lia,” he growled to her.  “I want to hear you scream my name as you come, I want you to gush against me until you’ve soaked through your leggings.  Is that what you need, ma’haurasha?”

She whimpered beneath him as he ground against her core.  “Yes, Solas, please, I need you,” she gasped.

“You need me to make you come, Lia?  You are already so hot for me, so wet, I do not think it will take long.”  She closed her eyes and let her head fall back onto the floor, overwhelmed with the sensation.  “No, ma’haurasha, open your eyes,” he urged.  “Look at me.  Do not look away.  I would see your eyes as you take your pleasure.”

She obeyed, and as her green eyes looked up at him, he saw them begin to glaze over as her pleasure started to mount.  He suddenly had a need to feel her wetness, skin against skin, and he swiftly laid her hips back down against the floor, and snaked one hand down the front of her leggings to delve between her thighs.  She gave a wild cry as he found her slick, and he couldn’t hold back a moan of his own as he slid one finger slowly up and down her wet slit.  “Ah, ma’haurasha, you are dripping with your want for me.  I want to sink into you and take you, over and over, until you are screaming my name.”  He slowly pressed a finger into her, and she made a high, choked sound.  She gushed a small amount of slick onto his hand and he made a vicious noise as he moved his thumb against her clit, rubbing her slowly but firmly, feeling the walls of her cunt spasm around his finger.  “You are so close, ma vhen’an.  Is this what you need?  To come around me, to shake apart in my arms?”

“Yes, oh, please, oh gods…don’t stop…Dread Wolf take me, I’m going to come!” she wailed beneath him.

He snarled into her ear, “Beg me.”  His fingers worked her so deftly, and he could feel her start to swell around them.

“Please!  Please!  Don’t stop, make me come!” she cried desperately, eyes wide, face flushed as she came so close to falling off the edge.

“Yes, Lia, come.  Come now.  I want to see it, I want to hear it.  Come.  Now.”

He lifted his head so as not to miss a moment of her pleasure.  Her eyes landed on his just as she crested, and she screamed, “Solas!  Solas!  I’m coming!”  He greedily absorbed the way her green eyes seem to grow a shade darker, and the red flush that quickly rose up her neck and spread to her cheeks, and then her eyes rolled back as she gushed all over his hand, and the walls of her cunt tightened rhythmically around his fingers.  He gasped with his own desire as she rode out her pleasure, fingers continuing to manipulate her to extend her orgasm.  When she was finally spent, he slowly withdrew his hand, and the slightest brush against her oversensitive clit had her keening and shaking beneath him as an aftershock ripped through her.

“My beautiful vhenan,” he moaned, and dropped his head to nuzzle her neck.  He is suddenly aware that she seems less grounded than she was a moment ago, and has to remind himself that she is not experienced with Fade-walking, and the crushing orgasm she just had would start to tear her ties to the Fade.  Her body would start to wake. 

He turned her head towards him and kissed her, one last time, and she whimpered into his mouth, breathing heavily.  He pulled back slightly and smiled at her pleasure-drunk face.  “You are wonderful,” he said softly.  “Thank you for sharing part of yourself with me, da’len.”

She smiled at him and laid a hand against his cheek, and then she had vanished into the waking world.  Solas exhaled heavily and rolled onto his back, wondering what the next day would bring.  Would she know Solas had actually been there with her, or would she dismiss it all as yet another dream?  He felt as though he should tell her, but he was uncertain how to proceed.  He had to admit to himself that, although it would undeniably be for the best, he was no longer so determined to put an end to all of this.  He wanted her, body and soul.  He wanted her naked beneath him, screaming as he hammered into her wetness.  He wanted her nestled sleeping against his side as he awoke in the morning.  He wanted her smiles, he wanted to see her eyes light up whenever he walked into the room. 

He suddenly laughed.  Cole, that sneaky bastard, had evidently gotten what he wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ma vhenan- my heart  
> ma'haurasha- My honey. A very sexual endearment that essentially means “You make me wet,” or “You make me hard.” Fyi: Haurasha (honey) is slang for precum, and the wetness of the vagina.  
> ma'lath- my love  
> ma'sa'lath- my one love  
> Juveran na su tarasyl- I will take you to the sky  
> fenorain- Little precious. Similar to the english endearment ‘darling.’


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I've had this chapter about half finished for like two months, but my store is extremely short staffed right now and as one of only three managers, I've been working regular 50+ hour weeks. And I've seriously spent more than half of 2016 so far very, very sick. I never get sick but I've been catching cold after cold this winter, and ended up with what was likely the flu last week. And still working 50+ hour weeks, which is probably part of the problem. All I've been up for on my very limited time off is sleeping and reading. But I'm finally better and actually had all weekend off (that'll never happen again) and I was determined to finish this chapter. Hopefully the next one will be posted fairly quickly, and it will have the first non-Fade sexual contact between Lia and Solas. So that's exciting! Hope you enjoy!

 Solas was in hell.

Traveling alongside Lia, Varric, and Blackwall, he was slowly journeying out of the Frostbacks towards the Western Approach.  The cold days and colder nights would soon start turning into warmth and sunshine, but for now thick furs and roaring campfires were the way of things.  Every night, he shared a tent with Lia, who tended to edge towards his warmth in her sleep until he would awaken in the morning to her cuddled up to him, legs wound through his, breasts pressed against him, breath soft against his neck.  Every morning was the most extreme torture.  Every morning was a struggle to force his massive erection to subside, _especially_ when it was pressed against some part of her.  Every morning he felt the urge to put an end to his abstinence and just push her on her back and delve between her legs with his tongue until she woke with a cry and came all over his mouth.  Then he would take her, and take her, and take her, until she was screaming and sobbing into his shoulder with her pleasure, nails raking down his back, _begging_ him to stop because she couldn’t come anymore—but she _could_ , and he would show her, coaxing her into another orgasm, and another, finally coming inside of her, filling her with his seed, howling with relief, and no matter if Blackwall and Varric heard—she was _his_ , let the whole world hear them together and know that a ragged Elvhen apostate had made the Inquisitor scream like that.  But every morning, he resisted the growing urge to do all of these things, and resigned himself to another day spent being mere feet away from her, and another night being pressed against her, while he could do nothing.

But Solas had to admit to himself—since their encounter in the Fade, he had been second-guessing his decision to refrain from a physical relationship with Lia.  He had originally been determined to refrain from an emotional one as well, but had bid farewell to a lack of emotional involvement months ago.  He thought about her every moment of every day, and being near her was both sheer bliss and the worst kind of torture.  Worse, along this current journey, he’d been subjected to that fucking Blackwall flirting in his clumsy way, and “assisting” Lia with things to show off his size and strength.  The day before, they’d taken a shortcut up a mountain by using old mining paths and ladders, and one of the ladders was missing the four bottom rungs.  Blackwall had simply grasped Lia around her tiny waist and lifted her up to the nearest rung, and then—which really steamed Solas—had placed one large hand against her bottom, ostensibly to steady her, but Solas knew better.  And of course, Lia had been more than capable of navigating the ladder on her own, but Blackwall just wanted to play the big-strong-man-meets-helpless-little-woman game.  Even thinking about it now made Solas grit his teeth.

A few hours ago, they had come across a Fade rift, and had fought the ensuing demons so that Lia could close it.  Since the fight, Solas had noticed Lia rubbing her left shoulder and grimacing.  After the third time, he had questioned her about it.

“Are you well, da’len?” he had asked, and when she’d turned to him questioningly, he had gestured towards her shoulder.

“Oh!” she’d said.  “Yes, it’s fine.  A bit stiff.  I think I just slept on it wrong last night.”

“Are you sure?” he’d pressed.  “If it’s your rotator cuff, I should take care of it for you.”  He knew well that Lia had ongoing problems with her rotator cuffs, especially the left one, and he’d seen her suffering through days of pain on more than one occasion.

“No, no, it’s fine.  Seriously, don’t worry about it.”

But she continued to rub at it, shrugging her shoulders, stretching her neck this way and that, trying to relieve it.  His frustration grew.  He could heal her, he could massage the pain away quickly, and most important, it would prevent the injury from becoming worse.  She was a rogue and her weapons of choice were dual-wield daggers; an injury to either arm or shoulder would be a serious blow.  Why did she have to be so stubborn?

They stopped for the night and set up camp as soon as dusk started to approach.  The fire was built and, as it was his turn to prepare the food, Varric was quickly throwing together some kind of basic stew so that it could cook for as long as possible.  Then they all settled down around the fire and under their furs to clean their weapons and armor.  Solas watched Lia out of the corner of his eye and caught every roll of her shoulder and every grimace. 

Varric finally served his stew, and Solas watched Lia devour it hungrily.  It was a simple dish of some kind of gamey meat (probably halla) that was regrettably tough since it had only had a couple hours to cook, red potatoes, and best of all, white onions, plump with the gravy of the meat, bursting sweetly in their mouths.  They ate every morsel that was in the pot, and then cleaned up as quickly as possible.  Solas saw Lia wince and grab at her shoulder when she went to pick up one of her furs, and he questioned her again, trying to hide his frustration.

“Da’len, please, let me see to your shoulder.  I can see it has been troubling you all day, and you are suffering needlessly.”

Lia shook her head stubbornly.  “Seriously, Solas, it’s fine.  It’ll go away on its own.  Stop fussing.”

He stared at her, fighting the urge to shake her.  And unbidden, Cole’s words came into his mind. 

_She wants to submit to you.  She wants you to be in charge.  Tell her what she needs.  Take care of her._

Solas snapped.  He rose to his feet.  “You are going to go into our tent.  You are going to take off your tunic.  You are going to lie on your stomach and wait for me, and when I come in I am going to tend to your shoulder.  You are not going to argue with me _any more_ about this.  Since you are seemingly incapable of taking care of yourself, I am going to do it for you.  Do you understand?”  Lia stared at him; he saw out of the corner of his eye that Varric and Blackwall were staring as well, but he didn’t care.  “ _Do you understand_?” he pressed, and she nodded hesitatingly.  “Then go.  Now.”  And Lia turned without argument and slowly went into the tent. 

Solas sighed and sat back down to wait a few minutes for her to get situated. 

“Well, Chuckles, I didn’t think you had it in you,” Varric said conversationally.  Solas cocked an eyebrow at him, and Varric snickered.  Blackwall frowned, but evidently couldn’t think of anything to say. 

“The Inquisitor’s health is of the utmost importance.  If she chooses not to tend to her injuries, however minor they may be, I will see to them myself.”  Solas explained patiently, then sat in silence.  He appeared much calmer than he actually was; inside, he was a riot of anticipation, hesitation, nerves, and _need_ , such a need he felt it would consume him.  He had not created this situation in order to get his hands on her, but now that the moment was swiftly approaching, he found his thoughts turning from healing her to what it would feel like to have his hands on her naked skin, to feel her muscles quiver under his hands.  After another long moment, he rose and went into the tent.  Behind him, Varric waggled his eyebrows at Blackwall.

A single candle, placed carefully atop a small stool, was all that lit the interior of the tent.  Lia was lying just as he’d instructed, on her stomach on top of her bedroll, face turned to the side, one of her thinner blankets pulled over her back almost to her naked shoulders.  Her hair was still wound in the bun she favored, revealing her elegant neck.  He took a deep breath and released it slowly, forcing the lust in him to subside, then knelt next to her on the bedroll.  A quick motion of his hands and several new fire glyphs were cast around them so that Lia would not be cold.

“I am going to touch you now,” he said, then placed his hands gently on her back, right below her neck.  She gasped and jolted.

“They’re so warm!” she exclaimed.

He smiled to himself.  “It is a simple, sustained magic,” he explained.  “The heat will help your muscles to relax.”  He took one hand and folded the blanket down to her waist, gulping a bit when it exposed her entire back—her _naked_ back, which meant she had removed her breast band.  He could turn her over, right now, and feast on her breasts, not relenting until she was mewling and writhing beneath him, and then his mouth would trail lower…

Solas shook his head quickly, as though to throw those thoughts out of his head, and moved both hands slowly up and down her back, letting the heat gathered in his palms penetrate her muscles, letting her grow accustomed to the sensation.  Then he moved his hands to her left shoulder, and he felt her tense beneath him.  She grimaced and turned her face into her pillow.

“Relax, Lia,” he urged, smoothing his hands in soothing circles over her skin.  “This will be much more pleasant—and effective—if you aren’t tense.”

“I’m trying,” she said, the words a bit muffled as she spoke into her pillow.  “I’m just not used to this.”

“Perhaps we should find a masseuse,” he mused, hands still soothing her.  “I’m sure Josephine could find an accomplished Antivan masseuse who would be willing—“

“You _cannot_ be serious,” Lia protested into her pillow.  She turned her head and looked up at him.  “What, the Inquisitor’s personal masseuse at Skyhold?  That’s ridiculous.”

Solas looked down at her sternly.  “If that is what is needed, then that is what we will do, da’len.  You are obviously not to be relied on to ask for this type of healing when you need it, so perhaps we need to schedule you for it regularly, whether you think you need it or not.”

She opened her mouth to protest again, and he narrowed his eyes at her.  “Did I not say you are to refrain from arguing with me?”

“Yes, but—“

“ _Lia_.  You told me you understood there was to be no more arguing.  Perhaps you need to be gagged?”

Lia’s eyes went wide at his suggestion, and for a long moment, they gazed at each other.  His hands had stilled on her back, and he felt her heartbeat quicken beneath him.  He watched her take a shaky breath, then turn her face meekly back down into the pillow.

He released a shaky breath of his own and continued with the massage.  “That’s better,” he said, and put all his effort into tending to her, though he thought wryly that the sexual tension would almost certainly make it harder for her to relax and accept his ministrations.  But he admitted to himself that massaging her back was no hardship; he felt the smoothness of her skin beneath his hands, noted every scar, every freckle, watched goosebumps appear whenever he found a sensitive spot and pressed it _just right_.  He also took a moment to heal every bruise or scratch he came across, however minor; it took but a small part of his mana to do so, and it pleased him to know that she would be much healthier leaving the tent in the morning.

When he finally started tending to her shoulder in earnest, she groaned loudly, then bit the pillow in an effort to silence herself.  He murmured his sympathy to her as he found every knot and slowly worked them all out, applying just the right amount of pressure, until she was completely limp beneath him.

He realized he wasn’t ready to stop touching her, so he continued the massage, trailing his hands lower and lower down her back, stroking and kneading every muscle thoroughly.  She offered no resistance at all.  She was completely relaxed. 

He decided to begin working on her lower extremities and gently started folding the blanket to expose the side of her hip and one long, lean leg.  His hand spasmed when he saw the naked curve of her hip: she had removed _all_ of her smallclothes, not just the breastband, and she was completely nude, with only a single thin blanket half covering her body.  He closed his eyes and took a steadying breath.  She was lying there, completely limp and relaxed, so trusting.  She had done exactly as he’d directed, and had not argued or resisted his ministrations.  He felt it would be a major violation to her trust if he picked this moment to attempt his seduction.  He focused on his hands as with deliberate movements, he folded the rest of the blanket back just as far as necessary, tucking it between her legs to preserve her modesty, trembling just a bit because his hands were mere inches from her core.  Then, with herculean effort, he continued his massage. 

He worked methodically down her thigh and calf, eventually reaching her dainty little foot.  He gently picked it up so that her knee was bent and the sole of her foot faced up, and then took it in both hands and pressed into her arch with both thumbs.

Lia’s response was extraordinary.  With a gasp, she arched off the ground so suddenly that Solas nearly dropped her foot in surprise. His mouth opened to ask if he’d hurt her, but before a single sound had passed his lips she groaned and pushed her foot harder into his hands.  Her head dropped back into the pillow and her hands fisted in her bedroll.  Solas gritted his teeth; her response appeared so undeniably and unabashedly sexual that he felt he was going to snap.

“Again,” she begged shamelessly.  “That feels so good, don’t stop, don’t— _oh, gods,_ yes, that’s perfect…” and she buried her face into the pillow and moaned as he pressed his thumbs into her arch once more.  He played her so deftly and watched with a clenched jaw as her body, so calm and placid moments ago, writhed and squirmed under the blanket—the one thin blanket—the blanket that was slowly shifting to the side so that he could begin to see the inside of one smooth thigh—the blanket that, if it moved a single inch more, would undoubtedly leave her glorious cunt exposed to his hungry gaze—

He could take her.  Right now.  He could drop her foot and rip the blanket away and turn her over and cover her naked body with his, and she would reach for him and arch against him, and his teeth would sink into the curve between her neck and her shoulder, and his hand would slide down to her slick cunt and slip inside her, and she would come _so quickly_ because the erotic pressure point on the arch of her foot he’d been working would have already aroused her beyond measure.  But he would make her come again for good measure, perhaps twice more, and he’d have the pleasure of hearing her noises—would she whimper and mewl through her orgasms?  Gasp and moan?  Scream?  Would she tell him how good it felt, how much she wanted him, _needed_ him?  Would she beg for more?  _Oh creators, let her beg him_.  Would one little hand squirm down into his leggings and encircle his length?  Would her long, lean legs wrap around his waist as she pressed him into her cunt?

He groaned softly at this image as he pressed into her foot once again, and he had the pleasure of watching her arch again.  Her head had turned to the side, and he saw her face clearly: eyes closed, brow furrowed, mouth opened wide on a gasp.  It was too much for him.  He deliberately moved his thumbs away from that spot and up to the ball of her foot, continuing the massage as though his whole body wasn’t thrumming with desire for her.  He ignored her weak moan of protest.  He would finish what he’d started, what he’d naively believed could be just an innocent massage to relieve her pain, this idea that he could have his hands on her naked body without the overwhelming desire to bury himself deep inside her.  He was apparently a glutton for punishment.

And so he finished the massage, ensuring that he took just as much time on her other leg, that he didn’t rush through it to get his torture over with.  She calmed herself and eventually was lying placidly beneath the blanket that he’d gently repositioned.  Only once did he slip; when he took hold of her other foot, unable to resist, he’d applied deep pressure with his thumbs to the same spot on her arch, and she made a high, choked noise as her body spasmed.  He gained a wicked satisfaction from this, even as it drew out his torture.

When he’d finally finished, he drew the blanket up to her shoulders and smiled as her eyes fluttered open and focused on his face.  “I think, da’len, you will feel much better tomorrow,” he said, then withdrew from the tent and let her dress.  When he returned he brought a full mug of water and insisted she drink the whole thing down.  Then it was time for bed.  The candle was blown out, most of the fire glyphs were dispelled, and they both rested on their adjacent bedrolls, covered in blankets, ostensibly going to sleep—but neither would surrender to the Fade for quite some time, and both were more aware than ever of the other lying mere feet away.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas has a couple of realizations during their journey to and from the Western Approach, and a snowstorm on their way back to Skyhold has Lia and Solas in VERY close quarters for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god. I know it's been seven months since I've updated this story and I am so, SO sorry. The truth is that I had it about 75% finished like a week after I posted the last chapter but I got legit stuck on the smut. It just wasn't flowing like I wanted it to, and I eventually got frustrated and moved on to my other fic. Plus work's been crazy (as usual--no rest for grocery retail management) and I've actually been doing social things on my days off (you know--like actually leaving the house instead of sitting on my computer all day). But I finally took another stab at it last night and tonight and just realized that I needed to write the smut differently. It turned out much sweeter than I'd originally pictured, but it worked much better. So I hope you enjoy! Hopefully the writer's block is officially over--for both this fic and my other one--and the updates will begin regularly!

When they finally reached the Western Approach, Solas was consumed by a mixture of relief and regret.  Relief because in all practical ways, the journey had been rough and unpleasant; regret because now they would be spending their nights at Griffon Wing Keep or any one of the official Inquisition camps set up in the area, which meant they would all have separate, albeit infinitely more comfortable accommodations.  No more waking to Lia snuggled up next to him.  No more feeling her smooth skin or hearing her soft breath or smelling her hair before he’d even opened his eyes in the morning.  Now his nights would be spent quite alone in a large, clean, comfortable tent, or in a luxurious stone chamber with a soft bed.  He knew this even before they’d reached Griffon Wing, and so he was in an unspeakably foul mood that seemed inexplicable to everyone around him.

After they’d been enthusiastically greeted by Knight-Captain Rylen and Lia had been debriefed about the situation in the Approach, they went about their business unpacking, tending to their gear, ordering necessary repairs, and meeting with the local merchants.  The afternoon was well underway when Lia came and found Solas and asked if he wanted a bath.

Lia was known for being kind of a clean freak.  She liked to bathe at least once a day; when they were on the road she would often have to resign herself to a quick sponge bath with a bowl of water, but the first time they came anywhere near a pond or a stream or a river, she would stop their journey immediately in order to bathe thoroughly.  Solas quite approved of this attitude.  In Arlathan, bathing had been an almost sacrosanct ritual.  The bathing chambers had been sumptuous and surpassed the luxury of even the most elaborate Orlesian spa.  Everyone was always scrupulously clean, no matter their station or status.  There were public baths for those who couldn’t afford private ones in their home, and they were no less elaborate or well-kept.  So while some of their party members rolled their eyes at what they viewed as a mere quirk of the Inquisitor, Solas was happy to indulge it, and always kept his eyes peeled for an appropriate opportunity when they were on the road.

Griffon Wing, of course, had had its problems with a water supply, but Lia had dealt with that as soon as they had taken over the keep.  Nearby Lost Wash Creek had been summarily cleared of all wyverns and varghests, and all the Inquisition’s water needs were immediately filled.  It was Lost Wash Creek that Lia planned to visit for her bath.  Rylen had said his soldiers would be happy to fill a tub with water for her convenience, but Lia quickly declined his offer, which Solas approved of.  Let them keep the water already at the keep for their own purposes; Lia was not a pampered diplomat who demanded to be waited on hand and foot for her visit.  Solas immediately accepted Lia’s invitation to join her at the creek, as did Blackwall and Varric, and they’d soon set out, leaving behind their armor but taking their weapons, just in case.

When they reached the creek, it was late afternoon, and the whole area was illuminated by the golden glow of the late-day sun.  Blackwall ripped all his clothes off and leapt into the water with an enormous splash, prompting Varric to follow suit.  Lia grinned, but undressed more slowly, finally standing before Solas only in her breastband and smallclothes.  She reached behind her head and pulled out the pins that secured her bun.  Her hair fell down in a cascade to just past her waist.  Solas looked at her, standing there in the sun, and his mouth went dry, and his breath caught in his throat.

When he’d first seen her, after the Conclave, when she’d been unconscious in her cell and he had tended to her, she’d had the half-starved, too-thin look so common to the Dalish peoples.  Months and months of living and fighting with the Inquisition, with regular meals and comfortable beds and tents, had caused her to fill out a bit.  She stood there before him now: she was all darkly bronzed skin and lean muscle; her gold hair was lighter than her skin after so much time in the sun, and it was wavy from being wound up in her bun for days.  Her breastband and smallclothes (in the Orlesian style, which was to say they were slung low on the hips and didn’t cover much) were snowy white and contrasted sharply against her tan.  She stretched, and the late afternoon sun bathed her in a red-gold glow, and her hair shone like golden fire, and for a single moment it was as though she’d been transformed into a maiden of Arlathan.  Whereas the modern Dalish were all tragic, waifish, fading creatures, the ancient Elvhen had been strong, dominant, unapologetic in their glory.  They were sunlight to the Dalish moonlight; gold to the Dalish silver; triumph to the Dalish tragedy.  And at that very moment, it was as though a curtain had been briefly lifted.  This was Lia as she could have been, as she _should_ have been, had he not broken their world.  But he would sunder it again, and again, a thousand times over, if it would let Lia live in this light forever.  And then the sun disappeared behind the cliffs, and the moment was over, and Lia tossed back her golden mane and leapt into the water with a laugh, leaving Solas standing alone on the bank in his devastation.       

 

The return journey to Skyhold started off normally enough, and the group made good progress.  One early afternoon, they were well into the Frostbacks, about two days away from Skyhold.  They were all in high spirits, happy that the return journey had taken considerably less time than expected, and looking forward to finally arriving at Skyhold and being able to relax and rest—at least, everyone except the Inquisitor, who never seemed able to rest for even a moment.  Solas had been mulling over this for a couple of weeks.  At Skyhold, no matter how physically exhausted Lia was, Josephine and Leliana were constantly summoning her to the War Room, inundating her with letters and appeals and requests, or introducing her to various visiting diplomats or nobles whom she was pressured to entertain; they would seemingly brook no refusal, and if she attempted to make herself scarce, Leliana would sniff her out without delay.  In fact, between journeys and missions, the longer Lia stayed at Skyhold, the darker the circles under her eyes became, the paler her skin would grow, and (worst of all) the less she would laugh or smile.  _They’re killing her spirit_ , he mused, and his jaw clenched, as it did every time he thought of it.

He glanced over at Lia as they walked, and noted that she seemed withdrawn.  The closer they drew to Skyhold, the quieter she’d become.  He’d barely heard a word from her today.

“How has your shoulder been faring?” he questioned, partly out of genuine concern, and partly just to hear the sound of her voice.

She hesitated for just a moment before admitting, “Actually, it has been twinging a bit today.”

Solas glowed with pride at her honesty and obedience.  “Good, da’len.  Thank you for telling me.  I shall be sure to tend to it tonight.” 

He was as good as his word.  Later, when they retired to their tent, he soothed her with heated hands and massaged her shoulders and back until she was limp and pliant and half asleep.  He gently pulled a blanket up to cover her and let her lay where she was.  On his bedroll next to her, he lay on his side and quietly watched her, drinking in every feature, committing every part of her to memory.  He would never be able to get enough of her.  He felt as though touching her the way he wanted would open a floodgate and he would never be able to stop.  And he did not have the luxury of that type of selfish desire.  But oh, how he _wanted_. 

 

Lia dreamed.

There was a large castle, hidden away in the cold mountains.  Few knew it was there, and she wandered its large, regal halls, reminiscent of a past time of high luxury, alone, except for him.  Her Guardian.  Her Protector.  Always nearby.  She felt his constant presence.  It was soothing; it made her feel safe.  He was a tall, leanly muscular man, and she felt he was handsome, but she couldn’t seem to look at him directly.  It was as though he was faceless.  When he would speak, which happened but rarely, she seemed to hear his meaning inside her head rather than hear his spoken words with her ears.  His specialty was doors.  So many doors in this castle!  Secret passages leading to secret rooms that led to yet more hidden chambers, like a maze—and all could only be accessed through his hundreds of special doors.  Doors that slid open silently when a hidden catch was pressed; large, heavy doors that bolted with a clang; small doors you had to duck through that were only kept closed by delicate little chains.  She amused herself wandering throughout the castle, discovering his doors, watching as he showed her the secrets to all of them.  She was content; she was happy; she wanted for nothing.

But something was coming.  She felt anxiety rising within her, helpless in its wake.  She felt such an overwhelming need to run, to flee.  Panicked, she ran through the halls, through the many doors.  She needed to hide.  She found herself curled up in the fetal position on the floor under a massive long table, the type of heavy table that sat fifty people for a banquet.  He was coming; he was going to find her; but she was not hiding from him.  He did find her; he came into the room and bent down to check under the table and saw her curled up at the head of it.  He ran along the table and bent down to her.  She was shaking, whimpering, rocking back and forth as she lay there.

_“What do you need?”_

She opened her mouth without knowing what she was going to say.  But when the words passed her lips, she knew they were the right ones. 

“Hold me,” she gasped between her whimpers.  

And he did.  She was instantly enveloped in his embrace.  His pressure, his heat, was all around her; every inch of skin was surrounded by him.  But she did not feel smothered; she felt comforted, safe.  As long as he held her, nothing would ever happen to her.  He was her Savior.

 

And Lia awoke to find that she had at some point migrated over to Solas’ bedroll, and her back was pressed against his chest, and his strong arms were encircling her, holding her close.  He was asleep; she could feel his light, even breathing.  She still felt her panic and anxiety, but the warmth of Solas’ embrace slowly soothed her, and she relaxed against him.  But it was a long while before she could fall asleep again.

 

All the next day, Lia was pensive and quiet.  She couldn’t stop thinking about the dream.  It had stayed with her all day.  She felt like there was some kind of hidden meaning, a message, if only she could find it.

They were only a day away from Skyhold now.  A light snow had been falling for most of the day, slowly coating everything in white.  It was a testament to how distracted Lia was that she didn’t notice when the snowfall became heavier, or when the wind picked up.  It was Blackwall who finally snapped her out of her reverie and drew her attention to the change.

“Inquisitor,” he rumbled.  “There’s a storm coming.  We need to stop and make camp.”

Lia looked up, surprised to see that he was right.  They immediately began looking for the most sheltered spot they could find to assemble the tents.  Lia was alarmed to find that the heavy snow was quickly growing to become a blizzard; they could barely see past a few feet in any direction.  Fighting against heavy snow and winds so strong they threatened to blow the tents away, it took much longer than usual to pitch them; in fact, it took so long that it was nearly their usual time to set up camp by the time they were finished and the tents finally stood against the storm, anchored against the heavy winds.  Solas quickly cast a few fire glyphs around their small campsite, and a small one inside each tent.  “Any hotter and the tents could catch fire,” he said somewhat apologetically.  Then they all retired to their tents, not even attempting a campfire. 

Once inside their tent, Solas quickly cast a mage lights spell, and then they both stood silently for a moment, listening to the wind howl around them.  Lia felt strangely relieved at this last-minute delay.  And really, it was quite cozy inside the tent, just her and Solas alone in a tiny world surrounded by the harsh elements.  She turned and found him looking at her calmly.  Suddenly, she felt flustered.  Foolish, considering how many nights they had spent alone together in that very tent over the past several weeks.  But there was just something about this moment…the two of them, alone in the tent, the howling wind outside a guarantee that no one would be able to eavesdrop on any conversation…or be able to hear any noises they made…

A blush swiftly spread across Lia’s cheeks at the thought.  She quickly turned away from Solas’ searching gaze and busied herself pretending to search for something in her knapsack.  After a few moments, she heard him start doing likewise, and she relaxed.  Her hand brushed against a deck of cards buried deep inside her bag and she pulled them out, thinking to herself that it was still several hours yet until they normally retired to sleep and she wasn’t feeling a bit sleepy.  Some rounds of Wicked Grace would be just the thing to pass the time.

She began shuffling the deck and Solas looked over, smiling.  “Ah, you read my mind, da’len.  Wicked Grace?  Or I could show you some other games I’ve learned in the Fade?”

They ended up doing both, and spent the next several hours sitting cross-legged on Lia’s bedroll as they played.  Lia relaxed into her usual self but remained hyper-aware of Solas’ close proximity.  More than once she found herself focusing on his lips: the way they moved as he talked, the way they quirked into a smirk whenever something humorous happened, the way he licked his bottom lip when he concentrated on his cards.  How would his lips feel on her neck?  On her breasts?  Trailing down her stomach…towards her center…

And his hands.  Long, strong, tapered fingers, deftly shuffling and dealing.  How deft would he be at other things? 

So it was that frequent blushes crept across the Inquisitor’s face.  And when Solas, who seemed much more at ease than usual, would notice, he would tease her, asking if perhaps they should start wagering the clothing they wore.

And so it went until the night had grown late.  The third time Lia yawned, Solas shook his head.  “I think that is enough for one night, da’len.  You must get some rest.”

Lia opened her mouth to disagree, but Solas merely cocked an eyebrow, and before a word passed her lips, he said quietly, “Do you remember what I must do if you attempt to argue with me?”  Which silenced Lia very effectively, and had the added benefit of turning her cheeks the most crimson they’d been all night. 

She obediently began her nightly preparations for bed.  She stripped down to her smalls and left her clothing neatly folded next to her armor and swords (it was always necessary to be prepared for a swift departure, and searching around frantically in the middle of the night for a pair of pants when the camp was under attack was not an optimal situation).  She shivered as a blast of frigid air hit her nearly naked body and looked around to see that Solas had opened the flaps of the tent and was leaning outside with something in his hand.  He quickly brought in a wooden bowl full of snow, then leaned out to fill a second bowl before ducking back in and securing the opening.  He saw her quizzical glance and smiled; his fingers nimbly traced a glyph over the first bowl, and in just a few seconds, Lia saw the pile of white dissolve into the bowl and become clear, steaming water.  He walked over to where she knelt and carefully sat the bowl next to her, along with a bar of her favorite soap, a small muslin cloth, and a towel: a sponge bath.

She looked up at him, speechless, almost unreasonably grateful for such a small gesture.  Such a small gesture, but so meaningful, because it showed how well he knew her.  Unbidden, tears swam into her eyes.  She swiftly blinked them back and ducked her head so Solas wouldn’t see her reaction, and busied herself with the soap and the muslin cloth until he turned away.   

She soaked the cloth in the hot water and quickly pressed it to her face, letting the warmth penetrate her skin and erase all presence of her tears.  She pulled it away to find the mouthwatering sight of Solas stripping off his tunic; the lean muscles in his back rippled with the movement, and her mouth went dry, imagining what it must be like to touch that back; what it would feel like to dig her fingers into those muscles, to rake her nails down, if he was atop her, inside her, thrusting…

She pressed the cloth back to her face again and inhaled deeply.  She heard rustling and knew he had removed his breeches and was likely only clothed in his loincloth.  She brought the cloth down from her face just enough to peek over the top of it and saw that Solas was sitting with his legs crossed next to his own bowl of water, and was dipping a second muslin cloth into it, preparing for his own sponge bath.  Lia took in his muscular chest, his strong shoulders, his forearms—by Mythal, _why_ was the sight of his forearms so arousing?  She was being ridiculous.  She shook her head and determinedly focused on her bath. 

The following ten minutes had to be one of the most erotic experiences of her life.  And of his life (his long, long, long life, though Lia didn’t know anything about that).  They sat silently, across the tent from each other.  The wind howled outside.  The only sound inside the tent was the occasional small splash of water as one of them would rinse out a cloth and lift it out of the bowl, and the _drip, drip, drip_ of the water escaping the cloth, back into the bowl.  The sight of droplets cascading down bare, glistening skin, all of it lit in the golden glow of the mage lights.  Neither of them naked, but the thought was there, and the awareness of each other’s proximity.

In the end, the dreamlike moment was broken by the only sound they’d heard over the wind all night: the sound of a lone wolf’s howl.  Lia jerked, startled by the noise, but not afraid.  Solas had a very different reaction.  His eyes dilated until they were almost black, and his breathing became deeper; he somehow seemed hyper alert, more alive.  She saw a flash of lust in his face as he looked up at her, and the moment hung in the balance, dragging on, both of them staring at each other, both wondering…

Solas was the one who finally broke the spellbound tension and grabbed his towel to dry himself off.  Lia sighed softly and toweled herself off, then, as she did every night, took the pins out of her hair, let it fall, then quickly brushed it out and wove it into a long braid down her back.  By this time Solas had already climbed into his bedroll and piled his blankets and furs over him.  Lia followed suit; once asleep, most of Solas’ heat glyphs would be extinguished, and they’d both be frozen with cold if not covered properly.  Once she was settled, Solas extinguished the mage lights, and they went to sleep.  But not for a long, long while.

 

Lia dreamed.

She wandered the castle again, her Protector somewhere nearby; she couldn’t see him, but she felt his presence and knew he was watching over her.  She tried to find the same enjoyment in her meanderings as she had before, but to no avail.  Something was coming and her anxiety had returned.  She felt such tension building inside of her and felt like she needed to run, to scream, but still her body wandered at its slow pace, ignoring the coming storm.  She felt like she was going mad.  The longer she wandered, the more anxious she felt, until suddenly she _could_ run—but it was too late, far too late—and then she was dashing madly through the passages with her Protector, throwing the doors closed behind her to try to hold it off.  She remembered every door from when he had shown her their secrets, and she slammed each door behind her until he shouted urgently inside her head, “ _It’s no use!  It can get through them all!  Come with me!  Hurry!_ ”

Finally they were in the last room in a serious of passages, a dead end.  The door behind them was the sturdiest with the most locks, and together they threw each and every bolt and catch until they were secured inside.  But there was to be no relief.  On the other side of the door came heavy pounding and shuffling noises, and slowly, one by one, each and every lock on the door began to come undone.  There were many, many, many locks to go, but this was the end.  There was nowhere to go and it was only a matter of time before the door was opened and it found them.  She looked around her.  There were windows in this little room, but each one opened to a sheer drop down the mountainside.  Next to her, her Protector was tinkering with the door, adding more locks, resealing locks that had already been opened, but he was fighting a losing battle and she knew it. 

The panic swelled inside of her and she opened her mouth, not knowing what she was going to say until she said it.

“Take me!”

Her Protector stopped his tinkering immediately and swung around to look at her intently.

“Take me!” she begged.  “Please, take me now, before it’s too late!”  It would be inside the room soon.  This was her last chance, her very last chance.  It was almost over, and she didn’t want it to be over until she had been with him, until he’d been inside her, on the floor or against the wall, gently or savagely, it didn’t matter.

He stood up slowly and advanced towards her.  She reached out and clutched at him.  She _needed_ this, before it was too late.  Just this, just him, and then when it was all over it wouldn’t matter, because at least she had been with him.

“ _Take me!”_ she gasped, and he pulled her into his arms and lowered his head.  She parted her lips on a wild cry…

 

And woke up, tangled with Solas on his bedroll, facing him with his arms around her.  This time he was very much awake.  The howling wind from the storm had ceased and they were surrounded with the muffled quiet that only came from heavy snowfall. 

“I have you, da’len,” Solas said soothingly.  “It’s all right.  It was just a dream.” 

Lia shook her head.  She was completely awake, but the panic from her dream had turned into something else, and suddenly she understood her fear.  Tomorrow they would be back at Skyhold.  She would not have another opportunity like this.  _They_ would not have another opportunity like this.

“Please, Solas, please,” she begged, clutching at him the same way she’d clutched at her Protector.  _Solas_ was her Protector.  She realized it in an instant and the clarity was nearly blinding.  Of course Solas was her Protector.  He had guarded her in the Fade, showing her the secrets of the castle the same way he had shown her the secrets of Skyhold after Haven had been destroyed.  “Please!  Take me!”

His face darkened with lust and his arms tightened around her.  “Lia,” he said huskily, but still he hesitated.

“Solas,” she gasped, pressing herself closer to him.  “Please, Solas, I need you.”

He swallowed thickly.  “I do not…I do not wish to take advantage,” he ground out.  “I should not have…in the Fade…”

“Please, Solas, please, take me!” she begged.

The begging pushed Solas hard over the edge.  He pulled her in and rolled until she was underneath him.

“Ah, da'len, you cannot know how much I have wanted you.  _Lusted_ for you.”

“Please!” she whimpered beneath him, trying to pull him down closer to her.  “Please!”

“Tell me, da’len.  How do you want me to take you?” he asked, his lips hovering just over hers, their breaths mingling together.  She leaned up, trying desperately to capture his mouth with hers, but he pulled back just enough so he was out of reach, and she fell back to the bedroll, frustrated.  “Shall I be soft and gentle, slowly coaxing you into pleasure again and again?  Or should I be demanding, taking you hard, _making_ you come over and over, making you _scream_ , and sob, and beg?  Should I break you with pleasure, da'len?”

“Yes, yes, _please_ , Solas, _please_ —“

“Yes,” he hissed softly.  “I think I would like that too.  You begging beneath me as I take you, making you come over and over until you are mad with it, until you can never think of lust again without thinking of me.”

“Gods, _yes,_ Solas, _yes_ ,” she gasped, and pulled at him again.

“No, I don’t think so, Lia,” he said, and pulled back from her.  He smiled darkly at the needy groan that escaped her as he left her lying frustrated beneath him.  “I will give you what you need; you do not take it for yourself.”  He reached for her wrists and pinned them on either side of her head.  “Do not move, da’len.”

He stroked his hands slowly up the sides of her torso, naked but for her white breastband.  She watched him closely, licking her lips with anticipation as he paused at the fabric.  For a moment he made as though to reach under her back to untie it, but then his mouth descended onto her breast, licking her nipple through the cotton. She whimpered and arched into his mouth as he tongued her.  Her breaths came in short gasps and she couldn’t stop the little mewling cries that were escaping her lips.  He palmed the underside of her breast, pushing her breastband up with his nose, uncovering her breast to his mouth and then, finally, descending, tasting her skin with his tongue for the first time.  She gasped, both hands flying to the back of his head.

He took her wrists firmly with both hands and moved over her, looking down at her with a stern expression.  “What did I say, da’len?  I told you not to move.  You are _disobedient_.  If you can’t hold still, I will _make_ you hold still.”

Lia writhed, pressing herself up against his body.  “Solas, _please,_ ” she begged shamelessly.  They only had so much time…it did not matter if she didn’t sleep at all this night, because this was all the time they had.  “Please, Solas, _please_ _hurry_.”

That gave Solas pause.  He frowned down at her and released her wrists, and thinking she had made him angry or turned him off with her begging or disobedience, she gasped, and tears swam into her eyes.  But he only lay down next to her, propped on one arm, and brought her close so that he could look down into her face.

“What is wrong, da’len?” he asked quietly.  He traced a thumb lightly under her eyes, gathering up the traces of her tears.  “Why do we need to hurry?”

She looked away for a moment, unable to meet his gaze, but he wasn’t having it.  He cupped her chin with his hand and gently but firmly turned her face back to him.  “Why do we need to hurry?” he whispered again.

“Because,” she whispered back, “we’ll be back tomorrow, and we won’t be able…we can’t…” Even as she voiced it she realized how ridiculous it all sounded, and a wave of embarrassment unfurled inside her so strongly she had to close her eyes against it.

“Da’len,” he said softly, and for a moment that was all that passed his lips.  He gazed down at her with an unfathomable expression on his face.  Finally, he continued.  “…do you think that I would abandon you upon our return to Skyhold?  Do you think that your duties, your responsibilities, would drive me away?” 

She nodded once.

“Ah, vhenan,” he sighed, and her eyes flew open.  It was the first time he had ever called her that…outside of her dreams, at least.  He leaned down and rested his forehead against hers.  “Ma vhenan, I am sorry that I have let this get so far.  I should have put a stop to it far earlier.”

Her face crumpled as she felt the worst clenching inside of her, this encompassing suffusion of despair.  This was it.  He was done with her…it was over before it had even started.

But Solas continued.  “I have seen how overwhelmed you are, how stressed and exhausted you become when we are at Skyhold.  I am sorry that I did not object, that I did not explain to your advisors how your time at Skyhold should first be spent resting, that your other duties should come second.  But you do not need to handle this on your own, da’len.  You take so much upon yourself, and you don’t need to do that any longer.  I will take care of this, Lia.  If Skyhold is to be your home, it should never be one you dread returning to.”  He pulled back and looked down at her speechless face.  “You see, vhenan,” he went on, voice softer but now edged with lust, “if I have you at all tonight, if I am finally able to do a fraction of the things I have imagined doing to you, there is no way in the Fade I will be content with just one night.  I want to have you every night, and every morning, every free moment of the day, in your bed, in mine, in storage closets and staircases and cellars, on the ramparts, until we are both flushed and sweating, until your lips are bitten bloody to keep from screaming, until your throat is hoarse when you can’t _stop_ screaming, until I have taught you how many times you can come and you are _begging_ me, both to stop and to never stop.  You think I could ever be content with one night?  I want to take you apart a thousand times, vhenan, and there is no way I would _ever_ let your advisors drive me away from you.”

Tears were flowing silently down Lia’s face as she stared at him, lips parted.  He smiled slightly and stroked her cheek, gathering up the moisture, murmuring, “I will do all these things for you and more, vhenan.  I will relieve as much of your burden as I can.  Would you like that, da’len?  Would you like me to take care of you?”

Lia could only sigh out a shaky, “yes.”

Solas bent closer to her ear.  “Would you like me to be in control, vhenan?”  He punctuated his query with a light lick to the point of her ear that made her tremble. 

“ _Yes_ ,” uttered so quietly it was barely more than a breath.

“Ah, ma vhenan,” Solas moaned, and turned her on her left side so that she faced away from him.  Her whole body quivered with anticipation as she fit snugly against him, rear pressed hard against his aching arousal.  His right hand traced lightly down her side and danced across her stomach, and he paused, absorbing the way her belly trembled beneath his touch, the way it moved with her shaky breaths. 

“I am not going to fuck you tonight, vhenan,” he murmured into her ear as his fingers began to tease along the edge of her smalls.  “The first time I am inside of you will not be in a tent with Blackwall and Varric mere feet away.  The first time I slide myself inside of you will be in your bed, after I have coaxed you into pleasure so many times you’ve lost count, and you have _drenched_ your sheets with your wet, and you are delirious with want.  Jutuan ma ir rosas’da’din, ma tel’aman melin, vhenan.”

Lia cried out loudly as he cupped her over her smalls.  Solas chuckled quietly as he slid his left arm beneath her so that he could cover her mouth with his hand.  “I have threatened to gag you so many times now, and now it looks as though I’ve finally gotten my wish.”

His fingers delved into her smalls and finally, finally, he was tracing her lips, delving between them, sinking inside of her, discovering just how warm and tight and wet she was.  No Fade encounter could compare to this, the feel of her walls pulsing around him, of the moisture leaking around his hand, or the sound she made against his hand, the muffled wail, breath hot against his palm.  She was writhing against him and one of her small hands gripped his right forearm tightly as he played inside of her, his thumb beginning to rub her clit slowly as he slid a second finger inside of her, curling them towards her stomach, feeling her muscles jump and spasm as he rubbed her precisely where she needed it.  She was panting and moaning beneath his hand, hips churning, and every bit of her response delighted him. _“_ _Yes_ _,_ ma’haruasha, that’s it.Lasa em tua rosas’da’din.”  With every roll of her hips, her ass rubbed against his erection, and he gritted his teeth against the desire to go against everything he’d said and just rip her smalls off, and tear his leggings open, and sink his cock inside of her wet cunt with one unforgiving thrust.

Her walls began to clench around his fingers and he knew she was close.  “Are you ready, da’len?  Are you ready to come?”

Even muffled against his hand, he could clearly hear her desperate cry.  “Please!  _Please!_ ”

“Ready, da’len?  I can feel you…so close…so tight for me…so _wet_ …I want to feel it now, Lia.  Yes.  _Yes_.  _Come for me, that’s it_ …”

He pressed his hand tighter against her mouth as she sobbed.  Her inner walls clamped so tightly around his fingers that he swore, imagining how it would feel when she would come with his cock inside of her…how the rhythmic clenching of her cunt would pull him so deep inside of her, would pull his _seed_ so deep inside of her when he came, when he filled her up…

“Fenedhis,” he gasped against her neck, feeling himself coming right to the brink of orgasm, so suddenly and unexpectedly that it shocked him.  He made to pull away, but then her right hand had left his forearm and moved in between them, behind her rear, slithering into his leggings, and wrapping firmly around his cock, pulling him out. She pumped him once—twice—and then he buried his face in the back of her neck and groaned as he came, spurting hotly against her hand and her back and his stomach. She continued to stroke him through it, still panting from her own orgasm—his hand had fallen from her mouth when she had gripped him—and he couldn’t stop the moans that escaped him as the most intense release he’d ever known continued to roll through him.

When both of their breathing had calmed, he grabbed one of the muslin cloths they’d used for their baths earlier and cleaned them both.  Then they were both burrowing down beneath the furs on his bedroll, and he pulled her tightly into his arms and murmured, “We will be home tomorrow, vhenan, and I will take care of you.  I will give you everything you need, and I will make sure everyone knows your well-being comes before everything else.  It will all be different now, da’len.  I promise.”  And cuddled together, they slowly drifted into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ma vhenan- my heart  
> Jutuan ma ir rosas’da’din, ma tel’aman melin- I will make you come so much that you won’t remember your name  
> ma'haurasha- My honey. A very sexual endearment that essentially means “You make me wet,” or “You make me hard.” Fyi: Haurasha (honey) is slang for precum, and the wetness of the vagina.  
> lasa em tua rosas’da’din- let me make you come
> 
> As always, thanks to FenXShiral for the Elvhen!
> 
> And true story: the dream Lia has is taken pretty much verbatim from a dream I had myself when I was writing this. It was one of the most vivid dreams I've had in a long time. In my dream it wasn't like it was from Dragon Age, but it was definitely an old castle on a snowy mountain, and I felt that need for whoever He was. It was pretty intense. And after dwelling on the dream for a day or two, I realized it fit perfectly into the story. So now it's immortalized, lol.

**Author's Note:**

> ma vhen'an- my heart  
> ma'haurasha- My honey. A very sexual endearment that essentially means “You make me wet,” or “You make me hard.” Fyi: Haurasha (honey) is slang for precum, and the wetness of the vagina.  
> Sathan, vera em su tarasyl- please, take me to the sky  
> Ha’mi’in, lasa em tua rosas’da’din- relax, let me make you come  
> Mar rodhe ir’on- You taste delicious
> 
> All Hail FenxShiral for her astounding work on the Elvhen language!


End file.
